One Step At a Time
by GeminiLady21
Summary: Good riddance, every obnoxious Monster is finally gone from the Underground. Now Flowey can have some state of peace being all by himself, wallowing in his defeat - wait. Why is that human coming back? Don't they have anything better to do? Welp, nothing can stop Frisk's DETERMINATION. Even if it has to take one step at a time.
1. Spring: An Unwanted Visitor

**A/N: Hello Undertale fandom! I'm just here to say: I'm freaking obssessed with this jewel of a game. Nuff' said. To top if off, a certain demonic spawn of a flower has been taking over my mind. Now you must be wondering, 'Who would like that weed?'**

 **Welp, someone's gotta take care of these flowers. ;p**

* * *

 **~Chapter One~**

A patch of golden flowers glowed in the darkness, crowded underneath one of the many open passages leading to the Underground. Droplets of water falling from the opening pour upon the secret patch of nature. If the flowers were alive, they would be glad to receive such a gift from nature. That is, all except for one lone flower, rooted directly in the center of a fairy ring of other flowers. Bigger than its other fellow flowers, it is wilted, despite the water falling from the heavens.

Surface above and him below, why was he _inconveniently_ placed under the opening leading to the Underground?

Flowey hisses loudly out of his fangs, doing his best to shield himself from the unforgiving rain. This attempt produces no success, for the flower is dripped from the top of his petals to the bottom of his roots. "And here I thought it wouldn't get _any_ worse," He curses, hunched over. Freezing water traces down his petals, leaking their way into his eyes. How long has it been? From what Flowey could tell, not like he _cared_ , it's been exactly eighteen nights since all of the Monsters were freed of their imprisonment from the Underground.

All except him.

"Good riddance." He sneers, suddenly violently shaking all of the droplets of water off his petals and leaves to dry himself. The rain only continues to come. "I bet they're having a grand ol' time up there alright." Flowey squints upwards for a moment, only to look away from bullets of water hitting his yellow face. "Having fun getting chased out of the humans' territory by pitchforks and torches!" His cackles of glee echo in the deserted caverns of the Underground.

"It's great being here by myself. More space, quiet, and most of all, no annoying Monsters to rub their stupid compassion in my face."

His words only reveberate emptily in the void of the Underground.

Flowey sits in the rain, silently cursing the weather. He then imagined Frisk and their stupid friends shoved together into a stupid house. Sitting in a stupidly warm room by a stupidly warm fire, sheltered from the stupid rain. That idiot Papyrus would be doing puzzles, and that idiot Undyne would be in the kitchen cooking some unintelligble slop. Meanwhile that stupid Toriel would be knitting near the fire and that stupid Asgore would be painting all by himself in a room. Then that stupid Sans would probably be sleeping and that stupid Alphys would be shut in her room watching her stupid anime.

Stupid, stupid, STUPID, all of it is stupid.

And as for that stupid Frisk, they, they would probably be -

The rain stopped?

Flowey, frowning, looks up. Instead of seeing the jagged opening decorated with stormy clouds, instead a bright red cloth or something is hovering over him.

 _Drip, drum, drip, drum_ pit patters the rain against the strange red foreign thing.

And then Flowey noticed a small tanned hand, clutching a black pole connecting to the strange red foreign thing. The hand connects to the body and the body belongs to -

"Oh it's only _**YOU.**_ " Flowey made sure to show his sharp rows of teeth.

Frisk nods, a stupid smile on their face. Instead of that baggy old striped sweater Flowey has seen worn them so often, a purple rain coat shields them from wet weather. Ugly frog shaped boots cover their feet.

"What sort of magic are you using to stop the rain?" Flowey sniffs, doing his best to be threatening despite his sodden petals hanging limp around his circle face.

Frisk only shakes their head in answer, smiling absent mindedly, as they ready themselves to sit next to Flowey. His eyes widen, he can feel them going pitch black. " _ **Oh nO yOu DOn'T.**_ " Flowey's face morphs into an amorphous blob of white for a second, forming into the most nightmare inducing expression he could muster up. " _ **IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR**_ **HIM** _**YOU WON'T BE SEEING HIM ANYTI-**_ "

A hug interrupts them.

"...Oh."

Flowey uncomfortably stood still in the human's embrace.

Finally, they let go, thank Above. And then they had the nerve to continue to sit next to Flowey, babbling on for what seemed like hours about their sickly happy life on the surface. He mentally cursed Frisk for each time they smile fondly at a memory, each time he heard news of Frisky's happy content lives, each time they would look straight into Flowey's eyes as if they were _comfortable_ with him.

Don't get Flowey wrong. He _could_ screech and curse at the human. He _could_ taunt the human with the many ways Flowey has killed their oh-so precious friends in the past timelines. He _could_ rub the fact that _HE_ was never coming back. But, in the end, Flowey gritted his teeth and sat through it. Because the only worthwhile thing Flowey would acknowledge was the human's 'um-brella' that shielded him from the never-ending rain.

Frisk finished the story of how they introduced Papyrus to the 'noodle aisle' from a human place called 'grocery store.' Flowey rolled his eyes, imagining the oaf of the skeleton going mad from rows and rows of supplies of spaghetti.

"I'm practicing ceramics." They mentioned, their smile widening.

Flowey pretended he didn't hear them, but they continued talking anyway.

"It's this art where you make pots and stuff with clay. I found out about it by making friends with this guy, Jaime Blue. You have to call this guy Jaime Blue, cuz that's just the way it goes. Anyway, Jaime Blue doesn't go to school, because he helps his mother out on her bakery and pot shop. In the back, they have a place full of pottery stuff. He's teaching me how to make pots, but it's really hard!" Frisk looks at Flowey, who is fuming over the stupidity of Frisk's newfounded friend's name.

"When I make my first pot, I'm gonna show you, okay?"

Flowey once again didn't answer.

Frisk glances at their wrist.

"Gotta go. Mom's gonna serve butterscotch pie tonight!"

Flowey winces despite trying not to care.

"It's raining buckets, isn't it? I'm gonna leave the umbrella here, okay? I'll come back, I promise!"

"Idiot." Flowey finally speaks. "You just wanna see me suffer." Flowey bristles, shaking more water off. "Leaving this umbrella here, clever plan. You just want an excuse to come back and make me suffer more, don't you?"

"Ehe, whoops, I'm caught! I can't wait!" Frisky yells with their stupid smug smile.

Oh. Oh, oh, OH, so they DO want to see him suffer.

" _ **DoN't yOU hAvE anYTHIng betTer to dO?!"**_

* * *

 **A/N: I love Flowey, man. I think some other fellow Undertalers love him to. Most often, I see an AU where Frisk comes back for Flowey, uproots him, and stuffs him in a pot to take him back home. I loved that AU, until I saw a post from tumblr where someone pointed out that Frisk seems like the type who respects people's wishes. They would, instead, keep on coming back to visit Flowey, extending the olive branch, until eventually Flowey breaks to the power of FRIENDSHIP.**

 **I liked it so much, that I decided to turn it into a fanfic. Boom, said, and done.**

 **I figure this story will have about 10 chapters, so be prepared! It would be great to hear feedback! Cuz I sure do love reviews a skele-** _ **ton.**_ **NYEH-HEH-HEH.**


	2. Spring: Nothing But Time

**A/N: Oh my gosh! Favorites, Follows, and Reads are flying through the window like crazy! I'm glad that you're all enjoying this! Take you for your patience, and enjoy this chapter!**

 **~Chapter Two~**

It was all pointless and stupid, really. Flowey couldn't comprehend how the human child thought of it beneficial to tell them about their sickeningly happy lives in Above. Flowey didn't care. It was useless, meaningless information. He didn't need to know how the skeleton brothers were opening up a spaghetti and hot dog restaurant. He didn't need to know how Frisk and their friends were all living together in a large complex. He didn't need to know how the town was happily integrating with Monsters.

Flowey didn't give a damn about it at all.

The only thing the child was useful for was keeping track of the stupid time.

He had nothing but time at this point.

* * *

The child was useful for something else as well.

Bringing _candy._

They once again plopped next to Flowey, around the seventh day, munching on something. Flowey bothered to acknowledge the child's presence. His eyebrows raised when he sees Frisk eagerly stuffing colorful worms into their mouth. Snorting he comments, "What fine food they must be feeding you back home. So fine that you're desperate enough to eat worms!" He collapses into maniacal laughter at Frisk's predicament.

With a swallow, they only let out a laugh. "Oh! That's what you think these are? They're not worms! They're candy!" They wave a bag full of this 'candy' in Flowey's face. He jeers at the bag, though in the back of his mind, the concept of 'candy' seemed familiar to him… "They're gummy worms, and I think they're delicious. Want one?" Frisk offers a green and red one to his face. He faintly smells the scent of strawberry. His nonexistent stomach lurches at the appeal of actual food...

Flowey almost takes a bite of it, but seeing Frisk's stupid smile, he violently jerks his head away.

"No way! As if I want to try your human _slob!_ "

Frisk frowns, disappointed. Flowey feels a pang of victory, getting a kick out of the human's disappointment. Though it was short lived. "Okay, suit yourself." They stuff more gummy worms in their mouth, Flowey watching. "Now that I think about it, do _you_ eat food? You're a plant, but you're a _special_ plant." Flowey glares at their emphasis on 'special.' "Plus you have a mouth. But you don't have a stomach. Hmm, I wonder how that's gonna work?" They pop another gummy worm into their mouth. Blue and pink this time. Flowey couldn't help but watch.

"Speaking of which, do you want me to water you when I visit you? It doesn't rain all the time so -"

"Are you some sort of sadistic freak?" Flowey snaps.

He feels his face twist up into a fury filled expression when Frisk only answers his snappish insult with their dumb reaction. His eyes don't leave the pack of gummy worms, and with every ounce of dignity he could summon, he chews off his words. "Give."

Frisk sits there in a dumbfolded silence for a moment. Then they realize. "Oh. Oh! Why didn't you ask earlier?"

Extending a gummy worm, Flowey practically bit off the tip of their fingers.

"Wow, you must really like candy!"

Flowey chews furiously.

"No? I guess you don't want -"

"I DO AND I HATE IT!"

From that point forward, Frisk brings a daily package of gummy worms.

* * *

Sometimes, they don't talk at all.

And sometimes they won't always have a stupid smile on their face. Sometimes they would look tired. Sometimes they would look sunburnt from playing in the sun for too long. Sometimes they would be laughing like crazy from a stupid joke that one of the skeleton brothers told them.

But there was one time when they came to him crying.

It was sometime around the twenty first day since the barrier has been broken. Flowey was aimlessly staring at his now empty pack of Skittles. Well, there were still orange Skittles left in the bag. Screw the orange skittles. And then Frisk appeared. He frowned seeing them. Their clad striped sweater was torn. Their eyes were red and puffy. Trickles of water were leaking out of their eyes like waterworks. And there was blood too. Blood oozing out of their nose. It was as if Frisk tumbled down Mount Ebott and back.

He blinked, genuinely taken aback. It wasn't even the afternoon, when the sun was high. In fact, it was the early crack of dawn. Frisk usually doesn't come at such an ungodly hour. But here they were, all snot and tears, and having a vicious hiccupping attack. Flowey probably would've kept on staring in a stupor awe at Frisk, if they haven't stumbled their way to his patch, and collapsed into a spasm of hiccup and tears. The flower stared down at Frisk, still unable to comprehend. He twiddled his leafy hands. For some reason, he felt hyper-conscious of his whole stem, from the top of his petals to the bottom of his roots. He wished to Above that he still could romp and move around like he could before he lost all of his powers.

No, he was rooted permanently in place, and he had to deal with a crying Frisk.

Not able to stand their pathetic whimpers and sobs and hiccups and clog-filled snorting, Flowey said, "Gee, you're acting like as if you went to a fun funeral. Afterall, nothing's like putting the _fun_ in _FUN_ eral, eh?"

They shook their head, face buried in a mass of golden flowers. _I'm glad I'm not those flowers._ Flowey shuddered in disgust at the thought of human fluids being spilled all over his gorgeous petals. He bobbed his head side to side, not sure what to say next. Afterall, he was just a flower. What the heck could he do?

"Don't come down sobbing and crying all over yourself if you have nothing better to say!" Flowey finally snaps in frustration. For a brief millisecond, he wondered if those were the best choice of words.

Frisk sobbed-muttered a phrase that resembled a 'sorry.'

He sighed.

"Look, I'm rooted down to the ground here. I can't run away - as much as I would love to - so crying yourself stupid won't solve anything. Got it? So what the hell happened?"

The human sobbed for a couple of more minutes. Finally they raised their head. Their eyes are a terribly gross shade of red from sobbing their eyes out. They had a hard time catching up with their breath, their shoulders moving violently each few seconds when their fast cry-breathing got the best of them. The blood is dried into an ugly maroon, glistened with their tears and snot. For another few minutes, they struggled with regaining their breath.

 _Inhale._

Exhale.

 _Inhale._

Letting out a shaky breath, Frisk finally managed to look Flowey straight in the eye with their terrible, terrible eyes. Flowey looked away for a second, bothered for some reason. "Done yet?"

"Y-y-yeah," They said, all hoarse and whispery. A hiccup racketed their shoulders.

"Are you going to explain or what?"

"Y-yeah." Frisk did their best to wipe their dirty face. They took another inhale, exhale. Finally, they began. "I don't know what happened, really. I was helping Papyrus with breakfast." Flowey heard, or at least, deciphered, from Frisk's mess of hiccups and shaky breathing. "He was cooking his breakfast spaghetti, Undyne's health shake, and everyone else's breakfast omlettes. I was gonna help him cook Asgore's breakfast. It was supposed to be fried red peppers with onion omelette." Frisk took a huge breath when their eyes began watering again.

"We were just fooling around, Papyrus and I," They breathed harshly. "We were play-sword-fighting. It's our thing, y'know? We were having a lot of fun too. I was just swinging around a knife, but it's not like I can actually hit Papyrus or anything, cuz he's trained and all. We were re-enacting a scene from Mettaton's live action drama show, ' _Fencing and Roses.'_ " They allowed themself a smile. Flowey couldn't help but roll his eyes at the flamboyant robot's incredibly atrocious TV show name.

"I-I think Papyrus threw some tomato sauce over himself when I play-stabbed him. Y'know, for fun? We were having so much fun. And then Sans came in. Sans came in and -" Frisk faltered, and their posture sunk. They clasped their hands over their heart, hunched over, as if they were struck in the gut. Flowey was all too familiar with their hurt expressions. "Sans - Sans...he...he turned scary." Their voices turned all hushy-hushy, not the normal enthusiastic, star-in-their eyes amount of admiration they would pour into their rants when talking about their beloved skeleton brother.

 _That's new. What did that annoying pun skeleton of a nuisance possibly fucked up this time?_

"I think he threw me across the room with his freaky magic," Frisky flinched retelling the memory. Flowey scrunched up his eyebrows. Odd. Very odd. To him, the skeleton was not known for resorting to such violent actions. Especially when the timeline is on track of the ending that everyone wants. However, another possibility flickered in the flower's head. _Oh. Oh._ "He threw across up and down. It really hurt." Frisk breathed out unevenly once again. "And everyone was so upset. Papyrus was really scared. Scared of his brother. I couldn't move. Undyne walked into the room, and she _really_ started freaking out. And Sans, Sans just stared. He just stared. He didn't look sorry. He - He didn't look sorry at all."

Frisk let their shoulders sank. "S-so I grabbed mom's bag and I ran away."

Flowey blinked once again.

 _Who knew that skeleton could sink that low? At least, for his standards._

"He must hate me. I can tell."

"Hm?"

"He must really, really hate me. I can't blame him."

"C'mon, you're getting yourself all worked up again," Flowey commented, seeing Frisk hypervenilating, water building up like a dam behind their eyes. Wow, humans could get themselves so worked up over the tiniest things -

Frisk threw their arms around Flowey.

"Oh c'mon." Flowey complained. "You're crushing my petals." Frisk sobbed. He sighed.

He could take it. He had nothing but free time on his hands.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope it's appropiate to end here. Now y'all must be wondering why Sans flipped the heck out, and what the heck is gonna happen to him and Frisk's relationship after this. That will be slowly answered, cuz this is Flowey's story. But let's just say that Sans is dealing with some serious PTSD. Signing out with a grim tone, I'll see you in the next chapter.**


	3. Spring: But No One Came

**A/N: *crashes through window*, GUESS WHO's UPDATING VERY LATE!**

 **This chick right here, that's who.**

 **Oh my god. You guys are so amazing. This story has hit near over 2000, and I am amazed at how fast the favs and follows are rapidly increasing in numbers. It's seriously invigorating me! It's feeding my DETERMINATION.**

 **Warning: Be prepared for Flowey cursing like a sailor for this chapter.**

* * *

 **~Chapter Three~**

Flowey wondered how long Frisk was planning on staying in the Underground. Seeing them in this emotionally wrecked state was pathetic, really. Reduced to nothing but a pile of depression, tears, and snot, lacking any _determination_ because of Smiley Trashbag. If Flowey has hands, the number of times he has seen Frisk broken by his cause in the other timelines were too much to count.

"You can't stay down here forever."

"Maybe I can."

"I think you're just overstaying your welcome."

Frisk winces when they struggle to sit in an upright position. Today, they are wearing a sleeveless polo shirt, so their wounds from Sans's vicious beatings were starting to show. Flowey pretends to not notice the ugly clods of purple appearing all over Frisk's arms. Their face is still blotchy and red from their crying episode. Every once in awhile, they would hiccup, the stolen breath rackening their tiny shoulders. Although they were trying to showcase their best attitude for Flowey, the usual cheerful light in their eyes are dulled.

"Hey, maybe this could be a sleepover." Frisk busies themselves rummaging through Toriel's handbag. "We don't have much for a typical sleepover, like anime, popcorn, and pizza, but Mom carries just about everything in her bag, so we can still have a cool sleepover -"

"Are you even listening to me?! How in denial could you be?" His voice raises with his temper, sending tremors through his leaves and petals. "Think about everyone else, huh? Mo - Toriel's gonna be working herself over you because you don't even have the gall to go back home! And then that stupid spaghetti loving oaf would be so worried about you, as well as that obnoxious fish lady would probably be throwing a fit, and that stupid sputtering anxiety ridden lizard that dares to call herself a scientist would be having a panic attack -"

"I know. Don't you think I know?" Frisk says in a scary, low, hushed voice. They didn't even raise their voice or anything, but their simple statement managed to cut off Flowey's ramblings. "Y-yeah I know everyone's gonna get so worked up over me running away. B-b-but I have no right! I have no right for them to care for me!" Frisk squeezes their eyes shut, but no tears leak out. They probably dried themselves of any tears. Flowey wouldn't be surprised.

"I have dreams." They breathe. "Scary dreams. Where...where I'm a bad person…"

Flowey flinches involunatarily, instantly knowing of Frisk's predicament. And he swears, for a moment, Frisk has dark mahogany hair, maroon colored eyes with a tinge of red and sinister, lips slanted into a cheshire like grin. He quickly responds by avoiding eye contact with the human, busying himself with a leaf fluttering from above.

"I don't deserve their care. Their love. T-t-t-their compassion," Frisk shakily says. "I'm a bad person. I'm the villain that cheated their way to a happy ending, right?"

The flower sits there in silence, letting Frisk wallow in their self pity for a few minutes.

Finally he says, "Is that what you're scared of? Something that doesn't even exist? Wow, are you braindead or what?" He would never say it out loud, but the lack of Frisk's reaction sent him on edge. I don't get why people get all scared of something inside that's apart of you in the first place. Something's that screwed up. News flash idiot, guess what? Everyone has something inside them that is absolutely screwed up." He takes a moment to chuckle. "I should know." Scenes from other timelines flash before his eyes, almost tangible.

How many timelines has Flowey played with? Timelines where he simply jumped into to witness a bystander's, friend's, family's breaking point? Timelines where Flowey broke Papyrus's unrelenting spirit? Timelines where Undyne let her rage get the best of her? Timelines where Alphys caved into her suffering? Oh, Flowey spoke the truth. Only he would know better anybody's true weakness, fatal flaw, and ultimate downfall.

"So if you think you're the only one who's screwed up, you have another thing coming, _idiot._ "

Frisk slowly raises their eyes, looking at Flowey through their bangs.

And for a moment, a brief gaze into each other's eyes, kindles a sense of understanding. The RESETS. The timelines. Their DETERMINATION. Flower and human both understood the truth that the rest of the world may never know.

Flowey is the first to break the gaze, flustered at this unexpected moment.

"Now if you're done with your existential crisis, do me the favor of going back home."

"Please."

Frisk is on their knees.

"Just let me stay for a night. I'm not ready."

Flowey doesn't say anything, toying with the suspense.

Finally, "I don't exactly have any feet to shove you out of my crappy abode, do I?"

* * *

Night looms above the two lone inhabitants of the almost empty Underground.

A chill hangs in the night air, however not to the point of freezing. It is the perfect type of weather for people to be staying late out at night, watching the stars. Well, where Flowey is rooted, he couldn't even see Above's forsaken stars. Frisk is besides him, their only source of light coming from a tiny flashlight from Toriel's key chain. Flowey scowls bitterly at tiny framed photos of Frisk and their 'monster' family, among the many keys gathered on the key ring.

He didn't know why, but Flowey wondered if Frisk had a family. Their human counterparts.

"...'putting his arm around the youth, "Nobody believes a liar...even when he is telling the truth!'" The end." Frisk closes the thin book. Flowey breathes out sharply with relief, sick to death of the stupid, sappy fairytales that Frisk decided to read aloud.

"I thought it would never end. God, all of these stories deep fried my brain from the sheer stupidity! All of those stupid and unrealistic 'happy endings' practically made me puke. Thank above I don't have a stomach!" Flowey complains, eyeing the fairytale book with vile.

Frisk shrugs, a pleasant smile on their face from reading the stories. "It's good to be reminded that happy endings can happen sometimes." A yawn interrupts them. They fan their face, rubbing their half shut eyes.

"Frankly, I think it's just a bunch of bullshit that only idiots would prefer to believe is true." Flowey shoots back. "I mean c'mon. Half of these stories are about people marrying princes who they hardly know. In fact, some of them they don't even know their names!" He points out in absolute disgust. "Not to mention, there are some of them that are just downright upsetting! There were actually some characters I gave a shit about who deserved a happy ending!"

"Which ones do you think deserved it?" Frisk asks, patient as ever.

"The mermaid," Flowey answers promptly. "She shouldn't have even wasted her time on that dumb prince. I mean, who does that? Who gives up everything just for some stupid person in the name of 'love'? An idiot, that's who." He grumbles, feeling a bit childish for getting so worked up over a character's fate.

"Really? That's what you think?" Frisk pauses to ponder. "Toriel would."

"What?"

"Toriel would. Toriel would probably give up everything for some some stupid person." A smile creeps onto Frisk's face. "And Sans would give up everything for Papyrus. And Undyne would give up everything for Alphys. And Asgore would give up everything for Toriel. And Mettaton would give up everything for his fans." Frisk says, thoughtful. Flowey's expression transforms into an ugly sneer.

"Isn't that just peachy? Even if it means their own deaths? I don't think so." Flashing Frisk a sickly sweet grin, he reminds them something they should've remembered. "Remember, in this world, _**iT'S kiLL or bE kIllED."**_

They frown. "If you always think like that, then you're never going to love." They yawn once again. "If you think that everybody in the world is out there to get you…" Frisk pauses, gathering their thoughts. "Then, then, you're trapping yourself. You're trapping yourself behind something like, armor. Yeah, armor. You're dressed up in armor and you have your shield, but you look really scary and mean to others. What's gonna happen then? If you keep on shutting others out, and then saying that you can't trust them, then you're sorta being uhm, uhm hypo- hypo - critical. I think that's the word." They yawn, looking sleepily at Flowey. "And then you're just gonna live life without actually taking a chance at it in the first place.

"Do you get what I'm saying?"

Flowey studies Frisk for a second.

"No, that was the most stupid analogy I ever heard anybody muster up!"

Frisk blinks, as if in a daze. "I tried." And then they close their eyes, head falling slack. This goes unnoticed by Flowey, who is working himself up into another rant.

"It's better to shield yourself. If you protect yourself, if you kill first, then you'll never get hurt or be killed in the first place." Flowey rants. Memories that are not his run through his mind like a torrent, painful and real and all too tangible. "What's the point of even trying? Why even try to be nice and kind to a bunch of idiots? It's all worthless. It won't even make a difference."

Flowey looks over to the still form of Frisk. For the hell of it, they flick Frisk right on the nose with their leaves. "I hope you were able to comprehend that with your thick skull." He snorts. Frisk doesn't answer, their eyes shut. Peaceful. They shoulders rise up and down ever so slightly. "Wow, you left the party already? Isn't that just grand?" Disgusted, Flowey looks up at the night sky. Gazes at the night sky.

The sky…

And the STUPID possibilities that Flowey does not even have a chance of reaching.

"Damn! These stupid possibilities…!"

Looking back and forth between a sleeping frisk and the open night sky, slowly builds up something, something heavy, inside the hollow husk of Flowey's nonexistent soul. Heavier and heavier it weighs, a burden. "Screw it! Screw it all!" He mutters, every part of his body quivering with rage. Well, no not quite rage. And not quite sadness either. No, it is a familiar painful hope that Flowey abused so long ago.

DETERMINATION.

In that brief moment - in that brief moment, Flowey had the power. He had the power to kill the stupid naive, too-trusting Frisk that is like a sleeping lamb waiting for its slaughter. With the newfound power of this fleeting, temporary DETERMINATION, why, Flowey could at least prove to Frisk the true meaning of the world. Kill or be killed. He stares down at serene Frisk, merciful Frisk, innocent and kind Frisk.

He could kill them.

He could kill them.

Flowey stares Frisk down. However, it was seconds too long.

The DETERMINATION, the beautiful DETERMINATION, disappeared from Flowey as quick as it filled him up. Just as it was there, it is now gone. A whimper escapes Flowey, feeling the emptiness of his caged body constricting him. No soul. It is an agonizing reminder to be once, almost, but never quite filled up, only for it to be snatched away. Was the universe playing some cruel joke?

"I. Hate. **YOU.** " Flowey tells Frisk. They continue sleeping.

"Damn you for making m-m-me hope! How could you! How could you?! It's no fair! Not fair at all!" Flowey cries into the darkness. Of course, no one came to answer his anguished cries. "Why did you come back for me? WHY?! After everything, everything I did to you -" Flowey falters. "After everything, I'm still _me._ And that's the point. _I'M stILL mE!_ I didn't ask for this burden!"

Hell, he didn't even know what he's blubbering at this point.

But Frisk is still sleeping.

"How could you?" His screams dampen into sobs. "How could you leave me behind?! Leave me behind like this! You walk into this goddamned Underground, shower me with your sickening presence, and then go to sleep?! I knew you were here to just torture me!" His nonexistent vocal cords are starting to ache from all the screaming. "I hATe yOU! I can't sleep! This stupid plant that serves as my body doesn't allow me the gift of sleep!" Hot liquid streams down his face, as Flowey hysterically rocks himself back and forth. "All this time, I've been awake! I've ALWAYS been awake!"

This much is true. Being a flower doesn't exactly allow bodily functions.

"So damn you! Someday you're gonna die human, and I'll find your grave, and I'll spit on it, and I'll laugh and I'll laugh and I'll laugh!" Flowey's enraged screams, quiets down eventually. Sobs transforms into uncontrollable hiccups. The emptiness insides him takes up too much space. Is this is what it's like? Suffering?

"Frisk, why can't you just...kill me?"

Once again, they don't answer, dreaming away their time.

Flowey droops over in defeat. "In the very least...Can you at least... _pLeaSe_ come back? D-don't…

"Don't leave me alone…"

But no one came.

* * *

He was careful to hide his face when _she_ came.

 _Mom._ Flowey peeks through his petals, watching Toriel run towards a still sleeping Frisk with open arms. Behind her is Smiley Trashbag. His pinprick blue eyes are averted from her direction, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his hoodie covering his skull. His smile isn't as wide as usual though.

"Oh, my child," Toriel tearfully breathes out when in close range to Flowey. She scoops up Frisk, love softening in her gaze as she looks adoringly at the still sleeping child. With her other hand, she picks her her handbag. Flowey flinches when Toriel's loving gaze reaches him for a second. Thankfully, she didn't see his movement. "Of all places, why here my child? Why the beginning of the Ruins?" Toriel murmurs, spinning on her heel walking to Sans.

"Take us back."

Flowey is baffled at how quickly Toriel can shift from the compassionate motherly attitude he once loved (nonoshe'snotyourmotherremember?) into a completely indifferent mask if anyone were to cross her. Through his petals, Flowey can see Sans shoulders hunch up, clearly pained from seeing the bruises formed all over Frisk's body.

"y-yeah."

And in a flash of blue, they all disappear, leaving Flowey very much alone as he always were.

* * *

 **A/N: Aaaw, nothing like a daily cup of angst! Who wants more! Bwahahaha! Anyway, I headcanon that despite everything, Flowey has the mindset of a child. A child that never grew up. I hope this chapter is satisfactory! Please leave your thoughts!**


	4. Summer: Remembrance

**A/N: And I'm back!**

* * *

 **~Chapter Four~**

Flowey wondered if he could die. He had no SOUL afterall.

And he had a feeling that he would find out _very_ soon. Above, the sun is shining mercilessly upon Flowey. The air is suffocated with a great amount of heat, as if someone shoved Flowey into a microwave and left him there for five minutes. (In fact, this happened once in one of the timelines. He doesn't like to speak of it.) Judging from the nights have passed, it's been nearly six days since Frisk hasn't visited him. Not that he _cared_ \- but with summer weather hanging in the air, he needed someone to water him.

Patches of golden flowers surrounding Flowey remind him of his eventual fate. Some are withered, browning and drying up at their once healthy and green parts.

Gingerly, Flowey blocks his face from the sun. He did his best not to move around alot, for any sudden movements would result his leaves or petals falling off. His right leaf is already dried up, hanging limply. From the very bottom of his roots, Flowey can no longer feel any signs of dampness. Is this really the end?

His body quivers.

A primal, familiar fear seizes him. The fear wired into every living thing: death. "I d-d-don't want…" His voice is cracked, barely audible. His mother - no, _Asriel's_ mother told him legends and stories of SOULs. Closing his eyes, he can almost see the crackling fireplace, imagine sitting on Toriel's lap, and Asgore snoring off softly on his velvet armchair.

" _Where do SOULs so after death?"_

" _It is not certain." Toriel smiles softly, stroking Asriel's head. "But do not think of death as the end, my son. Even though monster SOULs are weaker than Human SOULs, there must be a place where all kinds can rest."_

" _What's this place?"_

" _Oh, the humans theorize a plethora of possibilities. There's reincarnation, where a SOUL is recycled through new lives. Then there's the afterlife, where SOULs can spend the rest of eternity in."_

" _I don't want to die. And I don't want you and Daddy to ever die either."_

 _Toriel laughs. "I cannot make any promises my child. All things must come to an end."_

" _Then what's the point?_

" _I think that's a question that both Monsters and Humans must figure out. Think of it this way, Asriel. Do you think love, compassion, and mercy are worthless?"_

" _No!"_

" _Well then. A life empty of love, compassion, or mercy, is a life not fulfilled."_

" _Mooom, you know how I feel about your weird sayings!"_

" _I know my child. I know. But I think you'll find the answer, someday, I promise."_

Flowey heaves, his eyes flying open. A mirage. An illusion. Just a memory. But for a moment in time, the memory was so tangible, so real, it almost made him...whole? _Why didn't I - Asriel ask what happens if a being with no SOUL dies?_ He watches his right leaf flutter to the ground, useless and dead. Soon, it'll be the rest of him. "I'm going to die." This statement hangs in the air, unanswered.

No DETERMINATION to save him now.

Drooping with each passing minute, Flowey's mind wanders to other subjects.

"Crap. _Crap._ " He rasps.

" _A life empty of love, compassion, or mercy, is a life not fulfilled."_

"Oh god. I wasted -" Flowey took a moment to regain his composure, his head in vertigo. The lack of water and the overbearing sunlight was getting to him. " - I wasted my life, haven't I?" Regret pools within him. He's drowning in it. But there weren't even any tears left within him to shed. Pitiful. The image of his past life floats farther from his mind. "I'll never be with them, will I? This is my punishment, right?"

A petal falls from his head.

This goes unnoticed, however, by Flowey. At this point, he is only waiting for the end.

* * *

It was a miracle. A miracle that he didn't deserve.

Flowey was close. So _close_ to death. It was practically breathing on his face. But someone finally came, after all this time.

 _Her._

She hums a familiar lullaby. And Flowey had to shut his mouth from singing along with her, a habitual urge. The lyrics were all too nostalgic, the same as ever. They were imprinted into his memory, even after all of this time. " _Let's go to the garden…_ " Water drizzles over him. Gratefully and greedily, he can feel his roots seeping up any drop of the life saving liquid. A silent sigh of relief rolls over him, when he sees a healthy shade of green returning to his stem. " _You'll find something waiting, Right where you left it, Lying upside down,_ " Toriel circles the path of golden flowers, watering all of them. _Of all people, why did she have to come back?_ However, Flowey stays as still as possible, quietly listening to the old lullaby.

Once she finished watering, Toriel softly sings the last of the lyrics. " _Ever so slightly/Daily and nightly/In little ways/When everything stays._ " Flowey resisted from letting out a bitter sigh. The lullaby that Asriel loved so long ago was nothing but lies. Nothing ever, ever stays. People change, and they're never the same. Or, in the end, maybe it's _you_ who really changes. _In this world, people stop for no one._ Setting the watering can down, Toriel gracefully lowers herself in front of the flower patch.

"Hello, Chara."

Flowey squeezes his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited in such a long time, my child. Do you remember what today is?"

Immediately, Flowey can see the fateful date flash before his eyes. Toriel didn't even need to say it out loud to remind him. _June 21st._

He can practically hear her tender smile, her voice, a mother's voice, full of caring. "It's your birthday, Chara. Or, at least, that is what we assumed. This is day the very day you fell into the Underground." Peeking through his petals, Flowey can see Toriel rummaging around in a sack. "I brought you gifts, my child. Some chocolate. Dark chocolate with almond, correct? You always liked that type." Flowey couldn't help but give a small nod. _And they liked cinnamon-butterscotch pie and they never liked their food touching each other on the same plate and they never eat after dark._

"Here's also a crochet frog I made. I remember when you spent days working on some handmade project. You were always so determined to finish it! And in the end, your works always looked so beautiful and well made. You put alot of work into the things you love, didn't you, my child? When you put your mind to it...you can do great things." Flowey agrees vigorously. "In honor of your hobby, I taught myself crochet! It took quite awhile, but it was worth it." She gently places a crocheted froggit besides the bar of chocolate. "And finally," Toriel takes out her last gift.

The last gift is something like a snowglobe - only the inside is swirling with a bunch of twinkling lights, a beautiful background of dark indigo blue. There is even a tiny moon within the starglobe, full and glowing and merry.

Flowey bristles his petals. Curiosity swells within him.

"I gift you with the stars. At least, an imitation of it," The sadness in her laughter is undeniable. "I remember when you told Asriel about the stars. You would spend hours trying to imitate their beauty. Afterall, Asriel never had the luxury of -" Toriel's voice cracks. "Ahem. Excuse me, my child." Her fur is dripping with drops of tears. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she wipes her face. "Ah, this never gets any easier. The night sky was just as beautiful as you described it. It...oh, how I wish I can described it like you did. The night sky on the Surface is a sea of eternity."

Flowey couldn't help but wish to see the actual stars as well. _Don't be stupid. You'll never get to the Surface. You don't belong to anyone. You_ have _no one._

Finally, his mouth got the better of him. "You always knew what was best, mom." Realizing his impulsive mistake, Flowey clamps his mouth. _Stupid! That was stupid!_ Toriel clearly hears him, jumping. Her eyes are wide, as she scans the area. Relief sinks in, when she laughs this off.

"I'm really getting old, aren't I? Hearing things...I thought I heard…" She shakes her head. "I wish I could talk to you again. Maybe...maybe if I could talk with you, Chara, you would be able to tell me why Frisk…" Toriel trails off, looking unsure. Flowey had to resist from actually asking how Frisk was. _You don't care, right?_ She heaves out a tired sigh, rubbing her head. "Was...am I a bad mother, Chara?"

No. No, you're not.

"Because...for the first time, in a long time, the whole world was going right. My people are freed from our two thousand year imprisonment, I have a chance to raise a child, and I am living with friends I never imagined getting so close to. Even Asgore, counts. But...there are some things that are off. Some things I feel like I, as a mother, cannot resolve. Things beyond my understanding." Toriel laughs lightly, though a few tears follow. "It's funny how everything changes so slightly. Do I even know what I'm doing?"

Please. Please tell me, mom.

"They got hurt. They got hurt by the very friend I thought I could trust. A-and he couldn't even _explain_ to me why, _own up_ to it!" Toriel's cheeks flush into a light red. Her eyebrows are deeply furrowed, her lips curled back displaying her canines. "I have a right to get angry, don't I, Chara? Friend or foe, I would never ever allow someone who put their hands on one of my children, to live under the same roof! But," Her anger unravels in a spout of doubt.

"Everything feels so...wrong. Not whole. So empty. Should I have told Sans to leave? Should I...should I just trust in his actions? Should I forgive him?"

…

"Look at me, look at me." Toriel is covering her face. "I am a mess. Someone who believes in mercy, compassion, love...and yet I feel like i am denying myself of this. That I am not taking this opportunity to teach Frisk. Maybe...maybe I am denying Sans of his forgiveness."

There is a contemplative moment of silence.

"I am a _mother._ So...so...Shouldn't I _suppose_ to know what I'm doing…?"

"Not always."

Toriel jumps. Flowey still hides. There is a moment of silence. "'Not always', hm?" She wipes her tears. "I know, for a fact, who ever I am hearing may not be Chara. But, whoever you are...Thank you so much for listening."

He really wanted to whisper 'You're welcome.'

* * *

Summer night time finally came. But still no Frisk. After Toriel payed her respects to Chara's grave, she eventually went away. She tried making Flowey speak more, however did not discover him. He only stayed silent. Out of shame, guilt, or coldness? How knows? Not even Flowey could tell himself. Now, he wished, just a _little_ maybe he should've talked to Mo - Toriel more. _It's too late for that anyway. Maybe she'll…?_ He gazes into the starglobe. The tiny stars floating around inside the glass twinkle merrily. The stars are etheral, wispy, other worldly. It was unlike anything he've seen before.

He wonders what the real stars are like.

"Psst. Hey. Flowey?"

He jerks out of his thoughts. An oh-so familiar striped sweater and small smile registers into his mind. "What?" Is all he was smart enough to muster.

Frisk nods happily, walking towards Flowey. A flashlight in hand, Flowey is glad to have a definite source of light. Thankfully some of the bruises have faded from Frisk's face. Their sleeves are rolled up, most of the cuts and bruises healed. The only real damage is their right arm slung into a cast. A bunch of scribbles reading a few familiar names are scrawled all over cast. Flowey can instantly differentiate the personality of each handwriting.

The swoopy, wide, and loopy writing belongs to Asgore's, the papyrus font (how can someone possibly write in a font? Flowey decided not to trouble himself thinking about this) written in capital letters obviously belongs to Papyrus, the pen with a hot pink coloring and an obnoxious hearts over the letter i's belongs to Mettaton, the small and neat handwriting belongs to Alphys, the one with cursive handwriting taking up just the right amount of space and signed with 'xoxo' belongs to Toriel, and the one written in big bold letters taking up half of the cast most definitely belongs to Undyne's.

Then there are a bunch of other names composed of a Jaime Blue, a Maria, a Gable and Able, and so on.

The amount of care and time so many people put into signing Frisk's cast was... _sickening, baffling,_ and just a sminge of _admiring_ to Flowey. Maybe he should've been, what, 'happy' to see Frisk. He was anything but that though. He also feels the poisoned feelings of jealousy travelling up and down his stem.

"Where have _you_ been?"

"Heh. Sorry. I had to rest up and Mom wouldn't let me out of her sight. Everyone really cares, you know?"

Rolling his eyes Flowey mockingly repeats Frisk in a poor imitation of their voice. "'Everything really cares, you know?'" Flowey parrots back in a nasally voice, his face transforming into Frisk's neutral expression for a moment. "Bah! And I was finally regaining a sense of peace too! Then you have to just come _crawling_ back!" Frisk sits down in front of him, making themselves at home. He gives a melodramatic huff, flipping his petals. "Are you even supposed to be _here_?"

Bringing this up, Frisk's face sort of grimaces into one of guilt. As if they have been caught in the act of stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. "Uhm, well. Coming here around nighttime is as good as any, right?"

 _Vroooom!_

Shivers rush past Flowey. He sucks in a breath. _Magic?_ The air is pleasantly tingling with it. Crackling, warm waves of energy are travelling in the atmosphere. Flowey can almost reach it, possess it. But, regrettably, it was not his. _Wait, why would magic be -_ Senses alert, Flowey snaps to the direction to where he thinks the magic is located.

If he had a heart it would stop the moment he saw _him._

"Sans?"

"Smiley Trashbag?"

The stout skeleton says nothing. So much for conversation. He doesn't step into the moonlight shining dimly into the empty Underground. All that illuminated his face his the electric neon blue of his glowing left socket. His right socket is completely dark. His hoodie covers his skull, hands shoved deep into his pockets. However, his permanent smile is still stuck on his face, despite everything.

That smile held anything but joy, though. And it was directed at _him._ His petals quiver along with his body. Why is shaking so much? Frisk is quick to act, however. They step protectively in front of Flowey. "...Sans? What are you doing here?" The flower dared to peek around Frisk. Seeing the human, for a moment, Sans's blue glare dims for a bit. His smile even lessened a bit, almost matching something of remorse.

The fire in his eye socket flares up again.

"go home, frisk."

"Did you follow me here?" They wouldn't budge. Why? Why were they actually bothering to protect _him?_ Flowey's mind couldn't wrap around their completely stupid and impulsive actions.

"you shouldn't be out here in this time of night." Sans doesn't answer their question.

"Sans!" Frisk raises their voice for the first time, ever. "Please. Talk to me. I - we, Undyne, Papyrus, Asgore, Alphys - Mom! We're all so worried about you! We haven't seen you in forever!" Their voice is pleading, reaching out to Sans. Flowey hoped to Above that the skeleton would had the humanity to give in. Because if anything, he knew that if Smiley Trashbag knew what was up, he is most definitely going to have a _bad time._

Sans heaves his chest. His eyes close, the intense blue glow flicking off like a light switch. Flowey is still holding his breath, in anticipation. Terrible, terrible anticipation. Running a hand over his face, his eyes open. The pinpricks of blue have reappeared, only somehow looking to be deeper inside his eye sockets. "i dont want to talk. just go home."

Frisk puffs up their chest. " _No._ Give me one good reason!"

"because you need to stay away from _him!_ " A blue fire crackles wildly in his right eye. Flowey gulps loudly.

They are silent for a moment. "C'mon. You disappear for one week and then you show up just because you think I can't handle myself? Sans." Frisk takes a step forward towards him. His shoulders noticeably tenses, hunched like an animal being threatened. "Can we...please just talk? I know you must feel really bad about yourself but…" Frisk is walking closer and closer to Sans. Each with each step they look, Flowey along with Sans get more tense.

 _They're crazy. Just crazy._

Now, they were so close to Sans. Slowly reaching for his hand, they say, "I just want to talk!"

 _Vroooom!_

Just as quickly as he appeared, with a gust and a dizzying moment of magic, the skeleton was gone. Even Flowey had to blink rapidly a few times to get over himself. Frisk stands there, a bit stunned for a moment. Finally, they turn back to Flowey, shoulders low. "I really miss him. No lie."

"Even...even after everything he's done to you? He _did_ hurt you!" Flowey points out, jerking his head toward their arm cast.

They smile, genuine. "Sometime's, you're gonna have to try to understand a person, before you really jump to anything."

"Maybe that's why you're like a doormat. You're being... _walked_ all over."

"No." Frisk interrupts, voice not angry, but firm enough for Flowey to shut his mouth. "No. Forgiving people...that's not a sign of weakness, Flowey."

"You know that being nice to people doesn't always resolve everything, right? There's a bunch of people like _me_ out in that world. It's kill or be killed. Survival of the fittest."

They shrug.

"The world is a cruel place."

"Then why do I have to give up and become of those cruel people? That'll only add more meanness to the world!"

Flowey stutters over their words. "U-uhm." He shifts in his roots, a bit dumbfounded for words. "W-w-well…"

They smile a quiet smile. He would never admit it out loud, but -

 _Point proven idiot. Point proven._

"Just hope that this won't get you killed someday. And if that ever happens, no RESETS can save you."

Flowey turns his back to them, sticking his nose high up. His arrogant posture falters, however, when they whisper a simple statement.

" _I know._ "

* * *

 **A/N: Hmmmm...Flowey's getting more visitors, ain't he? Oh yeah, Pun of the Chapter! Here it goes! With your reviews, try to guess the meaning behind the pun!**

" **If you're ever cold, go to the corner to warm up."**

 **Thanks for reading, and be prepared for the next chapter!**


	5. Summer: Crawling

**A/N: Looks like I gained the DETERMINATION to finally update. Thanks for beings so patience all y'all.**

* * *

 **~Chapter Five~**

Smiley Trashbag's neon blue gaze was burning into depths of Flowey's non-existent SOUL.

The moment Frisk left, Flowey braced himself from the wrath of the stupid skeleton. But after the first three minutes of Sans's insistent death glare, Flowey began to doubt his true intentions. Jeering at the darkness where Sans waited, Flowey couldn't take it any longer. He was sick of Smiley Trashbag sitting in the shadows, glaring at Flowey with his menacing blue stare, and worse of all not even doing anything. Finding some gusto, Flowey pipes up, "What do you always love to say when you _try_ to look menacing? 'you're gonna have a bad time.'" Flowey's face morphs into a mock impression of Sans for a moment. It shifts back fluently, and Flowey does a raspberry at Sans's direction.

"So what didja come down here for, _buddy_?"

He quivers when Sans finally stands up, his gaze not leaving him. His right eye was on fire with blue magic. The air was thick with it. Shuffling his bony feet in his bathroom slippers, Sans cocks his head. His smile seem wider than usual. God, it was annoying.

"heh."

He paces closer to Flowey, slow and leisurely. Flowey uneasily shifts his gaze from Sans, feeling any ounce of bravado he once had, dissipate with each step the skeleton took towards him. Sans's hands are shoved deep into his pockets, and his hoodie covering his skull. Flowey kept his eyes trained on his hands, watching for any signs of sudden movement.

"i know what you did. well, technically, it never happened in the first place, did it?"

He feigned ignorance.

"Gee Smiley Trashbag, think you drank too much spoiled ketchup - urgh!" Magic chokes up Flowey's taunt. Fear strikes his roots, seeing Sans raise his right hand. It's vibrating with magic, _pulsating._ Memories of the other timelines flash before Flowey's eyes. Seeing no use in trying to fake his reaction, Flowey gasps through the suffocating magical energy, "You caused a fair share of RESETS when I had the DETERMINATION."

The grip on him lifts, thankfully. Sans puts his hand back into his pocket. It was foolish, but Flowey felt some sense of relief.

"Piece of garbage," Flowey mutters out of the side of his mouth, hoping that this will at least earn him a last laugh.

Sans shows no indication he heard this side-insult. The smile on the skeleton's face is overbearing, though. Too forced, too wide, and taking up _way_ too much of his face. What was the point in trying to fake such a happy expression, anyway?

"thought so. _buddy._ " Sans emphasizes the last part of his sentence, mockingly imitating Flowey's admittedly high-pitched voice.

He turns his back on Flowey, staring up at the opening leading to the Underground.

"s' almost dawn. pretty beautiful when the sun comes up. the birds start singing, and kids start playing out on the streets. on a new day like this, i'd still be sleeping. so you're right." Sans turns back to Flowey, eyes devoid of any light at all. His face is the picture of death. Flowey gulps, his petals dropping from fear. "i wouldn't be down here if i had a good reason."

They stare at each other. Flowey stays frozen, as if hoping this monster who has the power to shred him into ribbons, would no longer notice him. Finally, the pinpricks of light return to Sans's eye sockets, however this time his smile smaller than before. His shoulders sink, no longer held in a stiff position.

"got a shot of energy. after i figured the kid was coming down here to see _you_ \- well i decided it was time for a little chat."

Talking about Frisk and his not-so-subtle threat, somehow he looked...smaller? _Tired's the right word._ Flowey comments silently, watching Sans carefully. Slightly, ever so slightly, Sans's smile actually matched a frown. If that made any sense. "listen here, _flowey._ " Sans says rather sharply, quickly bouncing out of his depressing state. "be thankful that the kid was here to talk me down. if they weren't here, well - i wouldn't have guranteed your safety by the time dawn cracked."

"You can't hurt me. They'd _hate_ you." Flowey finally speaks up, finding some strength when thinking of Frisk.

Sans's smile only widens at his retort. And Flowey knew he pressed the wrong button.

"heh. heheheh. listen here buddy ol' pal of mine." Sans lowers himself to match Flowey's height. As much as possible, Flowey leans away from the skeleton. If only he could move - ! "you don't know frisk, kay? you don't know them as well as i do." A smile is no longer present. _Oh shit._ Is all that registers in Flowey's mind. "you know if they like burgers and fries? or their life before they fell to the underground? or what makes them laugh?" Sans leans in closer to Flowey, putting a hand next to his non-existent ear. His taunts were like a slap in the face. In defeat, Flowey could not answer.

"thought so." A smile is back on his face, satisfied. "don't you ever try to say something along those lines again. kapeesh?" He rises, finally out of Flowey's personal space. He breathes out shakingly. "truth is, i lost the energy to actually do anything to you. not like it's worth wasting anything on you in the first place. sides' you're not so much of a threat anymore. just a weed that grew by accident."

Flowey bristles his leaves, grinding his teeth. Oh, oh, oh, if he could wipe that smug smile off this Smiley _Shit_ bag's face, he'd - he'd!

"see you around. _buddy._ " Sans says with a wink.

And he was gone just as the sunlight arrived.

* * *

Flowey might have told Frisk of his conversation with Sans. But they had company.

He cringed at the sight of Toriel holding Frisk's hand. In her other hand is a picnic basket. Mouth glued shut, Flowey did his best to glare daggers at Frisk. They only smile, absent minded of the trauma-inducing conversation Flowey mulled through and his obvious anger. Screaming loudly in his mind, Flowey tried to hide his face. "Flowey?" Calls out Toriel. He was a fool for answering. He glances up to see the kind face of the former Queen. She is dressed in a simple sweater despite the hot summer weather and a light green skirt.

"Frisk has told me so much about you. After I caught them sneaking back into their room in the middle of the night," She says, giving Frisk a quick stern side-glare. They only shrug, nervously smiling. This almost draws a snort out of Flowey, but he pushes it back down. Instead, he sticks his tongue at Frisk, as if to say, "Nyeh nyeh nyeh, serves you right!" He hoped this message was conveyed well. Toriel chuckles at Flowey's childish action. He pouts, and grunts loudly, angered that she managed to elicit a reaction out of him.

"Would you mind of Frisk and I keep you some company for today?"

Flowey stays silent for a moment. He _liked_ to have not answered and ignore the presence of Toriel and Frisk. But he nodded. And the next thing he knew, a blanket is spread out besides him, and he's forced to participate in...a 'pick-nick' or whatever Toriel referred to it as. His eyes linger on the butterscotch-cinnamon pie in the center of the grand meal Toriel prepared. Flowey's mouth waters, warm memories that were not his breezing through his mind. A warm feeling - no a bouncing and unruly emotion matching excitement blossoms within him. Tears prick in his eyes, as he briefly remembers a smiling image of Chara jumping and squealing at the appearance of Toriel's famous pies.

"Would you like some?"

Flowey blinks out of these overwhelming thoughts.

Still mute, Flowey looks back and forth between the pie and Toriel. His willpower is not strong, though. He nods once again. The least he could do is not speak. Happily, Toriel complies, slicing a small piece for Flowey. Then, he stares between the leaves that serve for his hands and the tempting plate of pie sitting in front of him. Right. No hands. This is going to be an _issue -_ "Mmph?!" Frisk spoons some pie into his mouth. Just as he was going to go on a rant on how he shouldn't be treated like some sort of helpless baby - the smooth and buttery flavor of butterscotch and perfect spicy hint of cinnamon hits his tongue, Flowey is tamed.

Begrudgingly, he lets Frisk spoon-feed him.

"I'm glad you like my cooking, Flowey." Toriel smiles down at him.

He nods, not meeting her gentle gaze.

"Ah, still not talking? I understand it may be hard for some to get used to meeting new people. I will be patient. But I do want to say thank you."

This time - by accident - Flowey returns his gaze. In return, he only stiffly nods to answer Toriel's gratitude.

"Don't worry Mom. He'll come around." Frisk grins at Flowey, albeit a bit too cheerful. Flowey scowls at them, knowing they were probably ecstatic out of their mind to see him and Toriel interact. "We just have to take this one step at a time."

The rest of the summer day went on leisurely and sluggish. Unlike some days where the heat was plain unbearable, it was just the right amount of warmth where Flowey's petals can survive perfectly without getting fried from the intense sunlight. Frisk and Toriel combined weren't _that_ bad of company. When Frisk attempted to talk with Flowey, and saw that he refused to talk in... _her_ presence, Frisk adapted immediately and went on their merry activities without crossing him. Toriel didn't even need to ask Flowey whether he wanted to speak with her or not - with a warm smile, she simply made herself comfy and did not force Flowey into a conversation whatsoever.

Even after all this time, she still had good intuition.

Though for most of the picnic, there was not much talking amongst the strange three. Toriel settled with reading a book, titled, _To Kill a Mockingbird._ Frisk was content with laying down and staring upwards at the sky peeking through the jagged entrance inconveniently leading to the Underground. Normally, Flowey despised silence. It meant _boring._ Something needs to be happening in the background, something worth his time that entertains him needs to be done. This particular hatred for silence certainly didn't help Flowey's situation being stuck in the Underground.

This sort of silence is different from what he has experienced. Flowey pauses to look at the peaceful scene of Toriel quietly devouring her book and Frisk completely and utterly satisfied just laying spread out on the picnic blanket, taking in the scenery. So mundane, so easily over-looked, in some ways, _boring._ But it was... _nice_? Simply being in the presence of others and carrying on with everyday activities is somehow comforting to Flowey.

There were no words needed to be said, there was no dramatic happenings to elicit reactions out of his companions, nothing needed to be done. Everything is fine as it is.

Dumbfolded by this not-quite-spectacular revelation, Flowey decides silently he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his days like this. He had spare time. What's his left of his life is nothing _but_ spare time.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter may or may not made up for my unexpected absence...**


End file.
